


Enigma

by cjwritergal



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, only rated T for mentions of genocide and the violence that Scar's done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-11
Updated: 2009-08-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjwritergal/pseuds/cjwritergal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who was this girl to treat him with kindness, after all that he had done?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enigma

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for fma_fic_contest for the prompt "Metamorphosis".

 

* * *

 

_If I am to continue on this path, I will take everything god has given me, and cast it all away._

The man, Yoki, had asked him for his name.

But he was no longer the man to whom Ishbala had given a name- no, he was Scar. A chasm upon the earth, cut deep and never fading. Dirt crumbled in the cracks and the wound scabbed, but never fully healed over.

They would pay for what they had done.

It was only fair- the lives of his people made up for with their lives. The equivalent exchange the alchemists so devoutly spoke of used upon them in a way they'd never expect.

_Justice_ , his lips said.  _Revenge_ , said his heart. At times, the reasons blurred together.

There was no shame, there was no regret. There was only the chase, the capture, and the kill. The need for satisfaction.

For though every alchemist he felled filled him with an odd pleasure, it was painful too, and it was all never enough. He told himself that once he destroyed all state alchemists- then, it would be enough.

One of the early kills he made as Scar had been enough to give him pause, and was something he thought about at times.

He could remember the furry muzzle under his hand. The way the pitiful creature, whom he now knew had once been a young girl and her dog, had cried after he killed her creator, her father. He had created something, fused two lives together, but Shou Tucker died like any other man, blood pooling around his head. When the thing that had once been a little girl crumpled, he had taken comfort in the fact that she would not understand what he was doing. Just as she had not understood what her father had done to her.

At times he would dream of it, remembering how the creature had spoken, her voice rough and guttural, made thicker by the sob in her throat.

After those dreams, he would not fall asleep for a long while.

The first time he met the Elric brothers, he had known, even then, that if he murdered the eldest brother, he would remember the younger's cries for a the rest of his life.

At first, the two alchemists seemed to bring him many things- a reminder of his own brother, and chances to kill two other state alchemists. The reminder of his brother remained, though the alchemists escaped.

Later, the Elrics inadvertently brought him something else, too.

And the day came when he was shown that he wasn't as alone as he'd thought.

Refugees, living in the slums. Red eyes that still somehow carried a little bit of hope, despite the desolate position they were in, followed him, tracing the scar on his forehead without ever even touching him. There, a curious child fingered his tattoo, smiled, and spoke cheerfully, reminding him of the pride he'd long carried for his people.

His mother, father, and brother were long gone, but still, his master lived. His master had been similar to a second father during his childhood, and in honor of the man inside who had once worn his name from Ishbala proudly, Scar was glad to see his former master.

He knew there would be no reprieve, not with any state alchemists still left alive.

" _...You must endure it."_

He couldn't begin to understand why companions seemed to suddenly be interested in joining him. He also had no idea why he was keeping the sniveling Yoki alive- the man had betrayed the Ishbalans he had been living with, after all. But the man Yoki kept his life.

He couldn't understand either why children seemed to be unafraid of him. That girl, the Xingese alchemist Mei, had not feared him once, not even after seeing what he could do, or learning that he was a murderer. The girl was odd, true, but he was often surprised by how strongly he felt toward her- he did not want this girl to be scarred, to become a scar, as he had.

And even then he did not realize, that there had begun to be more on his mind than revenge, as of late.

The second time he met the Elric brothers, they did not show their fear- rather, they faced him with anger, and accusations.

They too, had known the creature that had once been a little girl.

_Murderer._

Was the killing of alchemists considered murder? Perhaps to other alchemists.

The younger brother would be able to fight him without stopping, but the elder was tiring. The brothers traded cues back and forth, keeping him talking, fighting. They spoke with easy synchronicity, and he remembered another pair of brothers, fighting off soldiers without fighting them, talking back and forth to keep them from attacking, while the sun blazed overhead-

But then the elder Elric -Fullmetal- seemed to draw energy from somewhere, and faced him with raw fury that set his eyes on fire like the sun where he had grown up-

And he remembered, remembered the other reason that he often could not sleep at night.

The doctors. The Rockbell doctors, whom he had heard of even before they had taken him under their care- the husband and wife who had no side in the war, staying only to help people. Not just Amestrians, not just Ishbalans- people.

_Murderer._

The younger brother's cries to stop cannot pierce through Fullmetal's words.

And then he sees her.

He sees the girl, whose face is a combination of those married doctors, eyes blue and wide and frightened- alone.

He knew those eyes well. He had had them once himself, after all.

Her fingers trembled, and the gun was too large for her hands. The brothers pleaded with her to drop the gun, and as she aimed at him, her teeth gritted, eyes swimming in despair and fury, he remembers in that moment, his master's words-

" _You must endure it."_

He doesn't blame her. How can he, after all, when he is doing much the same thing? Her shoulders heave, her fingers itch forward, and he tells her that she has every right to shoot him, but from then on she too would be his enemy.

Even back then, he's not sure that that last part was true.

Still, he charged forward, laying out destruction in his path, reveling that he is getting ever closer, ever closer to maybe, finally-

The girl with the sky blue eyes flinches, and Fullmetal shields her. The young state alchemist does not dare to move, save to lower the gun to the ground with one hand, staring at the man before him with eyes that speak more than words ever could.

And the man known as Scar doesn't strike, his hand out in front of him, mere inches from the young boy's face- but Edward Elric stares him down, not caring in that moment what was done to him as long as the girl behind him was safe.

The man remembers, and in that instant he is the monster, the terror, the evil, killing the innocents below him, destroying them while a brother below him shields someone he loves. Suddenly he is the alchemist and he is the killer, and he is the one that deserves to be destroyed for what he has done-

In that instant, he realized what he had become.

The younger brother's sudden strike was quite literally a kick in the gut.

He was able to get away, the brothers chasing after him (first just the younger, Fullmetal stepping in not long after) the girl with eyes like the sky being left behind, her cries echoing in his ears.

No matter how hard he tried, the images of that day did not fade.

He tried to stay on his course- he had chosen his path, and now he had to continue walking it-but somehow he couldn't erase the look in her eyes, her face cropping up when night fell, or when he was nearly asleep on his feet.

His second meeting with the Elric brothers had brought him far more than he'd bargained for. Just how much- even then he hadn't known.

He wanted both to see that girl again, and at the same time never to see her again. He felt haunted by her eyes, a glaring memory that always stared back at him- breaking his concentration, disturbing the clear-cut line he had once established for himself.

In the end, he had become that which he hated.

When he met her again, much had changed, though many things remained the same.

He had not killed Marcoh, the man responsible for creating the philosopher's stone which helped to destroy Ishbal.

He had failed to kill Kimblee, the man who was responsible for his brother's death. The man he now horribly resembled in actions.

But still he fought the Elric brothers, intent- or so he said –on killing them.

He saw her eyes first- big blue sky eyes, watching him as he attacked the man that had protected her, whom he could tell loved her-

And so the Scar upon the earth let himself be caught.

She looked at him, as he sat there, feeling oddly unworthy of even looking back at her. Her lips formed the words, the words that he had tried to prepare himself to hear:

" _Why did you kill my mom and dad?"_

Of course there is no answer. Not a real one anyway, not one that could ever erase the hurt in her eyes, the hard set of her lips. He had no right to try and explain himself, especially as there was no proper explanation.

And in that, he felt shame. He felt regret. He nearly drowned in it, wanting to fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness, find some kind of words that could somehow heal the pain, and the scars that he inflicted upon the kind heart that is all too easily reflected in her sky eyes.

She didn't rage at him. She didn't scream. She stared at him for perhaps a full minute, during which he wanted nothing better than to close his eyes and never wake.

Slowly, jerkily, she turned on her heel, and walked to a nearby pile of rubble, ripping off some cloth that had perhaps once been a curtain of some kind.

She kneeled in front of him, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. She told him that if he didn't wrap up his arm, he would bleed to death.

" _This...is what my parents would have done."_

He could hardly breathe, something constricting in his chest. He asked if she forgave him, but he knew the moment the question left his lips that it was impossible.

Her eyes blaze at him, burning ice, as she said that she would never forgive him.

He hadn't expected her to, but as she stands he could no help staring at her.

Who was this girl to treat him with kindness, after all that he had done?

He didn't deserve it- he knew that without even needing to think it over. He hadn't earned it, and in his mind her eyes flashed again, swirling stormy skies that concealed her kind, brave, crumbling heart.

But when she turned and smiled at the two boys who so obviously loved her, and told them that she wasn't going to cry, that she was okay, he remembered his master's words:

" _...You must endure it."_

He closed his eyes.

Later, he reflected that some part of him knew, even then, that nothing was the same in his mind.

There was no longer the clear-cut line. No longer the unending desire to see the eldest Elric brother fall under the destruction of his right arm (though really he was not quite sure that he had ever truly wanted that for a while). When he set eyes on the flame alchemist, part of him still wanted to slam the man to the ground and kill him again and again, to make up for his father, mother, and brother, and all the others-

When it comes to Kimblee, he was positive that his feelings would never change. But that didn't mean he would act on it.

He had always found Amestrian eyes to be a little odd, all the different colors a bit unsettling. But her eyes remained at the back of his mind, resurfacing when he felt as though he were about to give up, or when he felt his wound deepening. He remembered her eyes, and her words, the love she felt for the brothers, and he lived. He had to live, so he could change the country.

Winry Rockbell deserved to live in peace.

_If I am going to change this country_ ,  _I will take all of my vengeful feelings, and cast them all away._

~ _fin_


End file.
